Keep Me Safe Germany Romance
by TheArtDisaster273
Summary: She desperately wants to know. Who he was. Where he is. Why she has to hide. Alaya is Oliver Kirkland's daughter. At a very young age she was taken away from him. She wants the answers, but to find them it'll be a dangerous journey. She's throwing herself into more than she can handle, so she turns to someone who she believes can truly help her.


She hummed a familiar song beneath her breath. It was one her father used to sing to her. Though, truth be told, she hasn't seen him for a very long time. This fact brought on mixed feelings. Alaya loved her father dearly, but she knew that he wasn't particularly sane. No, not one bit. And that was why she was taken away from him. Alaya's grandmother, Iris, took her in. Took her away into a whole other dimension.

Literally.

Iris wanted Alaya permanently split from Oliver Kirkland. She knew how unstable he was and Iris knew she would lose it if anything happened to her precious granddaughter. Occasionally, Alaya would ask about her father and Iris immediately grew uncomfortable. She didn't want Alaya to know of the horrors that that man has caused to so many people. All the young girl knew of her father was just his name, really. Though, with much searching one day, she did find a photograph of him and saw much resemblance.

Alaya had the uniquely pink colored hair and bright blue eyes. She even had the freckles. The same facial structure could be seen in both. Really, she was a doppelganger besides their opposite sex. Alaya's hair was also strikingly long compared to his. Yet, the young girl was quite alright with the obvious similarities; it gave her something in common with the father she would probably never come to know.

The young girl began walking down the stairs from her bedroom and into the kitchen. Her blue eyes looked out the window to see the sun beginning to rise.

"Good morning, grandma," Alaya finally spoke. With this, the older woman jumped in surprise at the sudden voice.

"Oh, my goodness! You scared the living daylights out of me, Alaya! You are always so light on your feet!" Iris exclaimed once finally catching her breath.

"Sorry," she answered in a sheepish tone. Somehow she always managed to do that at least once a week. What could she say? It was just a natural talent she had, "I was just going to ask what we were having for breakfast this morning, but by the looks of it we're having bacon and pancakes," Alaya motioned towards the sizzling pans.

The older woman nodded in agreement, "Hopefully you like them."

"Oh, you know I always do, grandma!" Alaya spoke cheerily. This made Iris chuckle. The girl truly meant the world to her. It was then that a comfortable silence filled the room. Alaya merely watched her grandmother cook while every now and then asking if she needed any help. As always, Iris refused, stating that this was one of the things that she really enjoyed doing and that it didn't bother her at all to do it alone.

All Alaya could really do was just shrug and take a seat at the table. After fifteen minutes had passed, the food was finished and ready to be served. Both women filled their plates and began enjoying their meals. Though as they ate, for some reason or another, Alaya's curiosity was at its peak. It wouldn't have to be this way if only Iris would just answer her questions.

Once they were done with their meals and the dishes were placed in the sink, Alaya began to cautiously ask her grandmother the same questions as before.

"Hey, grandma?" Iris looked up at this. Oh, she knew that look in her granddaughter's eyes. They were eyes fishing for so many answers to so many questions, "Yes, Alaya?" she answered a bit warily, not exactly wanting to get into the conversation.

"Where's dad?"

The old woman sighed. Why did she have to be so persistent? "He's somewhere very far away. Somewhere he can never hurt you."

"But grandma—"

"Stop." Iris cut her off and threw her tired eyes, "I don't want you knowing _anything _about that man. No more questions. Do you understand, young lady?"

"Okay," a dismal look was painted against Alaya's face. She hated this. Not knowing killed her, inside out.

"Now, I have to head up to town, alright?" she hated hiding things from her, but this is what she had to do, "I'm going to get some things for dinner," Alaya nodded as she watched her grandmother walk out of the house.

Once she knew Iris was gone, she let out a frustrated groan. She had to clear her head. There was just too much going on in there, so she rose to her feet and marched out the back door. A walk was just what Alaya needed, though she knew that Iris hated when she did, but what she didn't know wouldn't hurt her, right?

As she entered the outside, a pleasant breeze hit her face. Alaya threw her pastel pink hair into a loose bun before walking towards a park she knew all too well.

Once she finally arrived, she grinned seeing the little kids enjoying themselves. She loved children; she found them so cute and innocent. Yet, this time, something caught her a little off guard…there was a man playing on the monkey bars. She thought that maybe he was a father just showing his little kid what to do, but the more Alaya looked, the man she began to think that this man was doing it for his own amusement.

She knitted her eyebrows in confusion. Now, what would a grown man want with monkey bars? His feet were even touching the ground; there was absolutely no point. She then spotted this weird little curl springing from the side of his head. It seemed to just defy gravity itself. Alaya jumped in surprise as she realized that they were now making eye contact. She tried to quickly dart her head to the side to break the contact, but it was now too late. The strange man was skipping over to her.

He finally came to a halt in front of her and gave out a gasp as he immediately grabbed onto a piece of her hair, "Wow! Your hair! It's pink!"

Alaya gave out a soft laugh. She could tell that the man was harmless; he was just a bit immature for his age, "It is."

"Is it real, bella?" she could her the Italian accent dripping off of his tongue. She was a bit more interested, now; she had never met someone from a different country before.

"It's very real, yes. I know it's strange, but it was just something my father gave to me," she spoke as she let down her hair from the bun it was in. A wider grin grew upon his face now that he could get a better grasp of the hair.

"That's amazing! I've seen all types of hair. Red hair, blonde hair, black hair, brown hair, but I've never seen pink!" she chuckled at his little rant, "Oh! I'm Italy! Who are you?"

Alaya froze in her place at his final comment, "Wait…What did you just say?"

"I said that I've seen red hair, blonde hair, bla—"

"No, no! Not that! The thing afterwards," she wasn't cutting him off to be rude, but if she heard right…

"Oh, that! I'm Italy," he exclaimed, still playing with her hair.

"Y-You're a country?!"

"Oh, yes! We have lots of pasta and tomatoes and pretty ladies!" Alaya couldn't believe it. Out of all the people she met today, she found a country! "But, you can call me Feliciano, bella! Ah! You never told me your name!"

"M-My name's Alaya," she answered, still shocked that this man was a country.

"Such a pretty name; just as pretty as your hair! Oh, I know! You should come with me, so I can show my friends your pretty pink hair!"

"Wait, Feliciano! I don't kno—"

"Don't worry! It'll be fun!" all you could do is listen to him laugh as he grabbed your hand to drag you to his friends.


End file.
